


Muzak and Orange Julius

by RavenAurelieChoiseau



Category: Harringrove - Fandom, Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: 80s, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Billy is a little out of character, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Boredom, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Closeted Character, Come Swallowing, Coming Out, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Enemies to Lovers, Feelings, Feelings Realization, First Dates, First Kiss, Fluff, Friendship, Homophobic Language, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Light Angst, M/M, Making Out, Male-Female Friendship, Mixtape, Mutual Pining, Oral Sex, Outdoor Sex, Past Abuse, People Watching, Period-Typical Homophobia, Physical Abuse, Pining, Robin and Steve work at Scoops, Sex, Soft Boys, Spit As Lube, The Mall, Top Steve Harrington, billy is a lifeguard, chatting, countryside, descriptions of a fight, mall life, more tags to come for the last chapter, robin is a good friend, set in season 3 but none of what happens takes place here, sexual abuse mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-07
Updated: 2020-03-01
Packaged: 2020-08-10 23:13:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20143570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RavenAurelieChoiseau/pseuds/RavenAurelieChoiseau
Summary: It's a particularly slow day at the mall, so Robin and Steve play a game. Steve isn't exactly a willing participant and in the course of it all, he reveals a huge secret about himself.Robin, being a good friend, encourages Steve to pursue his love interest.





	1. The Mall

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ashkore_varg](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashkore_varg/gifts), [harscrow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/harscrow/gifts).

> Spoilers for those who haven't seen Season 3, though there is really very little from the actual season in this. There are mentions of abuse though I didn't find them graphic enough to warrant a proper warning. I will just mention it here just in case.  
Explicit for language and sexual situations in chapters 2 and chapter 3. 
> 
> This is not my first fan fic, but it is the first for ST and this pairing, so please be kind. :) This is a bit of a self-indulgent story, I just want these boys to be happy.  
Enjoy!

It’s on loop the entire time they’re on shift: annoying Muzak. It plays obnoxiously in the background of the ice cream shop.  
One cassette. 59 minutes of insipid ear garbage.  
  
“I swear if I hear this Kenny G song one more time my brain will melt,” Steve grumbles from behind scrunched cheeks. His fists hold up his slack face as he leans into the register.  
“I don’t even listen anymore,” Robin replies in a voice faint with boredom. “It’s like being on hold with my dentist: torture.”  
She puts an emphasis on _torture_ with a pregnant pause.  
  
A figure shadows the entrance but doesn’t come in. Steve perks up for a moment thinking it’s a hesitant customer.  
“Ahoy, Welcome to…!“   
Whoever it was vanishes a second later and his words thin into a whisper. Robin hunches forward, elbows resting on the counter. A darkly lacquered fingertip indicates one of two girls standing by The Gap.  
“Back to the game. What about her?”   
Steve’s attention is immediately drawn to the taller woman and her stiffly feathered hair. Shockingly, it doesn’t move at all when she shakes her head in laughter.  
“It’s like watching petrified wood resist the wind,” Steve murmurs. “Jesus, how much Aqua Net does she use?!”  
  
Brightly colored bangles jingle on her tiny wrists as she pulls on the strap of her pink handbag. The brunette glances over at them before disappearing out of view.  
“So?” Robin continues, an eager lilt returning to her voice.  
“That one?!” Steve’s full lips curl into a smirk. It blends into his strong chin. “Come on, she looks like a Claire’s threw up on her. That’s like Strawberry Shortcake’s illegitimate daughter.”  
  
Robin blows a puff of impatience through her pursed mouth. Steve’s trying desperately to reign in his disinterest but he is _not _succeeding.  
“Not my type, Robin,” he dismisses the subject with a shrug. “Plus she’s a fire hazard. All that hairspray?!”  
“You’re impossible, Steve, you know that?” she chuckles.  
_  
  
It’s Friday morning and the Starcourt mall is still slow. Only a few teens are wandering about, browsing storefront windows. A couple here and there loiter in the food court. Most of the sales associates in their respective stores have yet to become frazzled. It’s one of those classic lackadaisical summer days.  
In fact, it’s so lazy it’s slim pickings for Robin’s game of “Let’s Find Steve a Date.”   
  
“Okay. That one over there?”   
While sorting spoons, Robin indicates a college coed with a quick jerk of her head. The girl’s long copper hair, strangled in a pony tail, lands smack in the middle of her Notre Dame sweatshirt. Cinnamon freckles dust where her skin is bare.  
  
“No mustache,” Steve mumbles before he can stop himself. Shit!  
He grins stupidly as a vision of Billy’s upper lip, the heart-shaped plumpness just begging to be kissed, makes his cheeks run hot. Jesus how many times has he woken from his dreams to the taste of Billy Hargrove’s tongue still fresh on his moist mouth?!  
“No mustache?!” Robin’s eyebrow arches in humorous surprise. “Exactly what kind of girl are you looking for?”   
_I’m not, Robin._ _That’s the thing. I’m not._  
  
The coed walks past the front of the store while holding a huge cup, a JC Penney’s bag swinging from her free hand. Her cheeks hollow as she takes a long sip through the straw.  
“Go talk to her,” Robin nudges him with her shoulder. “She’s obviously looking over here.”  
Robin is doing her best. Even though she loves giving him shit for it, she would actually like to see Steve in a happy, healthy relationship. He’s been so miserable and all he ever talks about is how alone he is.  
  
The whir of the air conditioning startles them. The motor has been acting up for a few days now. Both look up toward the grumbling vent, Steve happy to have the momentary distraction.  
“When is the maintenance guy coming again?” he asks absentmindedly.  
“Tomorrow. So it’s a no on the ginger?” Robin insists.  
Yup, he thinks. That’s a huge no on the ginger. That’s a no on girls in general right now, Robin. Why doesn’t she just let this go?!  
  
“Um, yeah. That’s a no. I mean she clearly has a mustache was what I wanted to say, so … No. God no.”  
His raised palm shakes just as much as his voice. “Plus I can almost hear how loudly she’s sucking down that Orange Julius. Obnoxious.”  
  
Tilting her face to one side, Robin steals a slanted look at his disgusted expression. Her co-worker is being suspiciously difficult, she muses. What is up with him lately?!  
“You must have hawk eye vision. I can barely make out her eye color from here let alone the state of her facial hair.”  
“Yeah, well… I’m observant. Plus she’s obviously Irish. The Notre Dame shirt to boot. You know how crazy those Irish families can get. I can already picture 4 brothers who all play defense in full contact sports just ready to kick my ass. I smell drama.”  
He waves the suggestion away.   
  
Before Robin can retort with an ‘I smell bullshit,’ a slim, attractive blonde saunters into view. It seems like she’s considering going into Scoops but then with cautious steps she makes for the Flash Studio next door.  
Robin’s periwinkle gaze brightens up.   
“Oh... did you see her? She’s cute. Come on! She’s a ten. If you don’t ask her out _I will_.”  
No muscular arms with a trash tat on the bicep, Steve examines. No ass that won’t quit in tight 501s.  
Nope. Steve is not impressed.  
  
“Be my guest. I’ve got someone else in mind. I’m just not interested in a Farrah Fawcett knock off. Or someone who actually _wants_ to get glamour shots because she clearly just went inside the photo place.”  
“Not interested… since when?” Robin dips her question in sarcasm.  
“Since now,” Steve spits, busying himself with the useless task of stacking cups into color-coded rows.   
  
He would love to change the subject. Honestly his only desire at the moment is to reveal his truth to Robin so she’ll stop with this date nonsense. But each time he’s tried to tell her over the past few weeks, the words have gotten tangled up in his throat and he ended up putting it off. And then he put it off once more.  
And now he’s kind of dug himself into a deep hole.  
  
“Okay Popeye. Who’s the lucky girl then? Someone we went to school with, because you sure as hell didn’t meet her here. What, you meet her at camp like your little friend Dustin?” Robin enquires in a poutish, puzzled tone.  
Most definitely, Steve confirms to himself. Billy attended our school. Came in like a fucking hurricane, too. He’ll never forget the first day Billy pulled up into the parking lot.  
  
“Hey Romeo, I asked you a question!” Robin snaps her fingers in front of his glazed look of reflection.  
“Yes, Robin. We met at school.” The reply is a bit curt.   
  
Should he just tell her? Steve wonders as he avoids her inquisitive gaze. All of this would just go away if he did. He just needs to form the words he’s been dying to say to _someone_. If he says it out loud maybe he can finally own this truth, dammit.

_  
  
It’s been hard on Steve to say the least. When he first realized his feelings it was under the canopy of Billy’s entrance into his life. What started out as a rivalry blossomed into... infatuation?  
Steve has thought about Billy a little too much the past couple months. He became preoccupied with his comings and goings, with how tight his clothes were, who he was talking to…  
Being completely consumed by the boy sparked what some might call “inner turmoil.”  
  
Steve had always been with girls. Nancy last, though that was a disaster waiting to happen. He had never considered that he might be attracted to men until Billy slowly crept into his subconscious, peeling away the layers of denial that he had built up over the years.  
Then it wasn’t long that the blond teenager settled permanently into his conscious thoughts and desires. All the dreams he had about him, Jesus!  
  
Steve found himself in the same predicament night after night. Slick-lipped, eyes sealed tightly shut to trap himself in his fantasy. He worked his stiff cock raw from under rumpled cotton, muffled moans collecting in his pillow like hopeful prayers.  
All the nights of tossing and turning in a “Billy fever” that just wouldn’t break, pretending it was him pleasuring Steve. It was Billy who was whispering his name into his ear like a forbidden incantation.  
And it always ended the same: Steve wet, sticky, and panting as he broke in hiccuping sobs in his bed.  
  
When he thinks he was a little homophobic before all this, it makes his face burn scarlet in shame. Christ, he had actually agonized over whether this was a one-time thing; asking himself if it was Billy who made him consider liking men or… had he been attracted to guys all along?!  
Steve knew better, though, and he didn’t need a lecture from his lesbian colleague to realize it. Hell, if anything Robin coming out to him helped him put these doubts to rest.  
  
This isn’t a choice and he’s come to terms with who he is. If these urges surfaced with Billy, they were there all along. Steve is bisexual and this was just lying dormant until the right guy came along.  
The yearning Billy Hargrove set aflame within him, the exhilarating gush of love shooting through his veins every time he’s near him, it can’t be contained. Sometimes the need is so strong his stomach knots like an old willow and he folds in on himself.  
Every inch of him craves Billy.  
  
Billy Hargrove made Steve forget who he had been, forget everything he thought he ever knew. It was he who made Steve want to become a better person.  
  
-  
  
Steve frowns, studying the laminate of the counter with a silver dollar gaze.   
“Why the frown, Charlie Brown? So you met at school. And???”  
“It’s nothing, Buckley. Just let it go,” he stammers, annoyed with himself.  
“Nothing?! You’ve been checking out cute girls with me all morning and not ONE strikes your fancy? No way, Steve. No way. Something is up.”  
Robin can sense there’s more to this story and she will not give up so quickly.

“Just... never mind,” his words trail away uneasily. Steve grabs a rag and rubs the already immaculate glass. “It’s hopeless, anyway.”  
A hand closes warmly over Steve’s mid-stroke, Robin removing the cloth from his grip. She grabs his chin and makes him look at her.  
“You’re stress-cleaning. What’s hopeless, Steve? Talk to me.” Her large eyes widen in concern.  
The sigh that follows is deep, chest deflating. He’s getting closer to being able to utter the phrase, but he’s not ready quite yet.  
  
“I sort of like someone and I’m thinking of asking h- um, _this person_ out. But I don’t know. I’m afraid of maybe misreading signals.”  
Nodding, she opens her arms in a welcoming gesture, pointing to the empty shop.  
“Well, there’s no one here and unless one of the numerous children with whom you’re friends gives better love advice, I’m here. Spill it, sailor. Who is it? What signals are we talking about here?”  
“Look… really… it’s not important.”   
  
Can he do this? Actually tell her? She came out to him so who better to understand?! What is he so afraid of?!   
All these questions make his mind fizzle.  
“You brought it up, dingus,” she encourages with a smirk.  
Steve chuckles. “I just don’t think you-“

A hard punch on the shoulder cuts him off.  
“Ow!!! Jesus you hit hard!” Steve rubs the place she just jabbed, the round part of his bicep. “And for the record I didn’t bring it up, _you _asked_ me_!”  
“I have a lot of sublimated rage,” Robin presses her back into the shiny chrome display case, arms crossed over her chest. “It fuels my physical prowess. Now come on, spill the beans before I go for your nads.”  
  
Steve’s hands drop instinctively to his groin like a footballer’s. “You are a seriously disturbed individual, you know this?”  
Cloudless blue eyes sparkle in mischief as she giggles.  
“I am. But I’m also a disturbed individual willing to listen and help you with your problem. Come on, tell your Auntie Robin everything.”  
“Fine,” he concedes. “Only because I’m terrified of what you’d do to my testicles.”  
“Good man. Soo...”

Before starting in, he pours himself water from the tap. The entire glass disappears before he wipes the excess moisture on the back of his hand.  
“So, when we first met... I don’t know. It was like the person was taunting me, you know? Which on schoolyards usually means ... “  
“That they secretly like you. Yes. Go on...” she twirls her long index finger like she’s unwrapping a Fruit Roll-Up.  
“But then we were paired up for a final assignment and actually had a good time. Shared laughs... I don’t know. Maybe I’m crazy.”  
  
This is interesting. They are finally getting somewhere, she thinks.  
“What exactly did she say? Does she touch her hair a lot when she’s with you? Mimic your movements? Look for reasons to touch you?”  
“Well...”  
  
Steve thinks back to the way Billy chewed on his pen cap constantly, those ridiculous palm frond lashes fluttering when he was deep in thought. How he threw sidelong glances when he thought Steve wasn’t looking but it was _Billy_ stealing them first!  
They would reach for the same things at the same time. Once it was for the chips in the big bowl on the dining room table and their hands met briefly.  
Billy’s heart lurched and even though he pulled away immediately, Jesus the rush of blood to his head (and places lower) was intense.  
  
Steve fared no better, getting flustered and clearly blushing until he slid his chair two inches to the left so Billy wouldn’t see his arousal.  
Steve crossed his legs so tightly that time trying to keep the first of many “Billy” erections under control.  
He couldn’t speak for his classmate, but Steve felt like he was going to pass out through most of their study sessions. His heartbeat was a roar in his ears and color ran up his neck in violent streaks. He almost nibbled his lower lip to bleeding.

“Um, looking for contact I guess. Stealing glances and all that.”  
“That’s promising. How long since you last saw her?”  
“A couple weeks. I mean I know where the person is working so sometimes I just pass by to look from afar. I’m not stalking, I swear, I just miss seeing them. But we haven’t talked for a couple weeks.”  
  
Okay. Steve can’t keep slaloming pronouns, this is ridiculous. He decides to man up and just go for it.

“Listen Robin. I have to tell you something. It's a secret." Steve's face falls the slightest bit.   
Here we go. She nods. "Of course. Go ahead."  
"It’s a guy, okay? It’s a guy. I’m bi and I like dudes and he’s ... there’s just something about him, Robin. Something special. I don’t buy into his persona, you know? There’s so much more there. He may be the most interesting person I’ve ever met.”  
  
“I knew it!” She’s almost jumping in place. “Your obsession with your hair and that moisturizer you think I don’t know about hiding in your locker...”  
She’s totally teasing him, trying to lighten the mood. But Robin more than anyone else is aware that this goes much deeper than some crush. This is his identity they’re talking about.  
  
“Excuse me, I come out to you and this is the reaction? And... how stereotypical!” Steve wrinkles his nose up and folds his arms.  
“But it’s true, Popeye.” She winks at him, giving him a little push with her hip.  
“Well then by that account you should have a buzz cut and dress like a lumberjack.”  
A little cocky smirk appears on her face. “What?! What makes you think I don’t dress like a lumberjack in my spare time?”  
  
Seconds later they burst into hysterical laughter until their bones feel loose.  
  
“I’m kidding, Steve. I’m sorry. Thank you for trusting me with this. Okay, so enquiring minds need to know, does this paramour have a name?”  
“It’s... fuck it. It’s Billy Hargrove.”   
“THE Billy Hargrove? The hot one who beat the shit out of you a few months back? That Billy?”  
A moment of thoughtless shock passes through her, and Steve replies with a tense nod of confirmation.  
“Yeah, well... yeah. But the beating thing, that was... that was a misunderstanding. His sister was … look it’s not relevant. That’s not who he is. He’s just... troubled. But there’s something there.”  
  
_  
  
Steve is… well he’s sure something is there. He remembers how Billy was trying to cover for his unusual interest in socializing.  
“How much longer until this shitty assignment is done?” Billy had feigned annoyance.  
He wasn’t fooling Steve. After that he did everything he could to stall and even proposed a few more sessions, always at Steve’s. In reality they could have finished their parts on their own, but neither would be caught minding the company.  
  
Steve didn’t know, couldn’t have imagined that the quiet rumble of the dryer and the ticking grandfather clock in his foyer were amongst the most soothing sounds Billy had ever heard. When he was at the Harrington’s, he didn’t have to look over his shoulder for flying plates ... or fists. No one grabbed him by his collar and pushed him into walls, spitting in his face while his silent screams sliced the hollow within.  
When this happened, (and it happened with more frequency since school got out), so when his father pinned him into furniture and beat him senseless, Billy would just go away. He’d close his eyes and imagine it was Steve… Steve pinning him out of desire, caressing and holding him against the paneling until his mouth throbbed not from lip-splitting punches but from bruising kisses.  
  
Steve was correct in assuming that there was more than met the eye. It’s as if Billy starting breathing only once he was around Steve. Until then he had been living in terror-induced apnea.  
Steve Harrington made him feel at ease. They even shared laughs! Christ, Billy hadn’t laughed in a long time. Not a real one, not one so authentic it bid tears to his eyes and made him wheeze.  
Billy discovered tears of joy hanging around Steve. Hell, Billy discovered _joy_ hanging around Steve.  
Steve didn’t know it then and Billy wouldn’t admit it freely but Steve was becoming Billy’s safety net, someone to pull him up for air… into calmer waters when times got rough.  
And rough was often.  
Steve was a haven from Billy’s tormented seas, so it was ironic that Steve worked dressed up as a sailor. Billy thought it was adorable, a contained smile painting his face hiding the secret only he knew.  
He was in love with Steve Harrington.  
  
_  
  
“Wait, Robin… who said he’s hot?”  
“Only every girl who comes in here since he starting lifeguarding. And some moms too which is just... eww.” Her limbs shake out in a fake cringe.  
“Now that’s just inappropriate. He’s more than a gorgeous face and a hot body.”  
“So you think he’s hot?” She pokes at Steve’s ribs playfully with her scooper.  
“Of course he’s hot!”  
“Oh man, Steve.”  
“What?”  
Hooking an arm into his, Robin swings it. “Wow. He’s got you all twisted up, doesn’t he?”  
“I haven’t stopped thinking about him since we turned in the assignment. He’s like... gotten under my skin or something.”   
“So what are you going to do?”  
  
Steve stops abruptly, first looking at the ground, then letting his gaze drift upward to her face.  
“I don’t know. I really like him, Robin. But I’m afraid of getting rejected.”  
“You’re afraid of getting your face jigsawed again is what you’re afraid of.”   
She has a point.  
“Well, there’s that, too. But he just acts tough, you know? I know there’s a good guy in there. I saw it when we were working together. There was this softness to his eyes. Those gorgeous ocean eyes... “  
  
Robin turns and holds him fast by the shoulders, eyes rapt on his.  
“Damn. You are cooked, sailor.”   
“I am.”  
“I have to hand it to you, Steve... going from total failure with the ladies to Billy Hargrove. Who knows? This might actually work out. But just in case.”   
  
She lifts a finger. Reaches down below the register and pulls out a jar. Cutting a piece of tape with her teeth, she sticks it on. Steve’s eyebrows furrow in wonder.  
“What are you doing with what’s supposed to be our tip jar?”   
“Starting a “Fix Steve’s Face Fund” on the off chance he beats the daylights out of you.”  
Robin slides him a curious glance, head angled to the right. A magic marker twirls between her fingertips.  
  
“Gee, thanks for the optimism.”  
“Hey... maybe he won’t. If he tormented you so much he probably does like you,“ she surmises.  
“You torment me, does that mean you like me?”  
“Well, I’m a lesbian so my torment is more... sisterly. But I do like you as a friend, dingus. Your desperate love life is an enormous source of entertainment for me but I do wish you well.”  
“Gee thanks. Way to kill the bonding moment.”   
A hastily suppressed giggle rings out in the empty store.  
  
“I’m joking. Lighten up. I’m sure he’ll accept. I bet he’s thinking of you right now.”  
Steve would love to think that, but he’s overcome with self-doubt. It would cloud his judgment if he hadn’t already decided to do this foolish thing.  
“Probably not. But I have to try. And if he takes a swing, well… I’ll have my answer. Hey, you mind covering for an hour? It’s slow anyway.”  
  
Inclining her head in compliance, she bows ceremoniously.  
“At your service. Are you going to the pool to ask him out?”  
“Yeah. I asked the desk what his schedule is like this week. He’s probably due for a break by the time I get there.”  
“Go. Let cupid’s arrow fly, my child.” She uses the marker like a wand.   
  
“Thanks Robin. I just hope he doesn’t kill me. If I’m not back in an hour call the local hospitals.”   
She yells after him when he throws his hat at her on his way out.  
“Hey dingus, when you die, can I have your Walkman?”  
“Funny!"   
“I’m totally serious!" she screams. "And break a leg!”


	2. The Pool

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve visits Billy at work.

Steve doesn’t remember much of the drive over to the community pool. Images and bits of conversation invading his thinking almost made it feel like he was in some warm, dreamy haze. He was lucky he didn’t get into an accident.  
  
Before he knows it, he’s passing through the fence and – he can barely hear his own quick intake of breath over the sounds of water splashing and kids squealing.  
There he is, sitting like a sun-kissed Egyptian god on his throne. Billy Hargrove.  
Billy doesn’t spot him immediately, but when his gaze falls on the guy wearing a sailor get-up, he can’t help but purse his ruby lips together into a smile. Steve’s too far away to see the affection glowing in his stormy eyes.

“What’s up Harrington?” Billy asks as soon as he’s in earshot, his voice hoarse from his throat half-closing. He doesn’t trust himself to look at Steve for too long so he darts his gaze.  
The closer Steve gets the more a low and pleasant hum warms Billy’s blood.  
“Long time no see. Came to look at your reflection in the water?”  
Steve shifts from left foot to right, covering his eyes with his hand as he squints against the sun.  
“Haha. Yeah, because I’m pretty and all. Funny.”  
Jesus, it’s Billy who’s pretty. He looks like he stepped off a beach in California, skin an amber tone that only further accentuates his perfect smile, teeth even and gleaming white.  
Steve shakes off the sudden image of his hand threading his fingers through those golden curls.  
Christ.  
_Focus Steve. Focus_.  
  
“If you fall in, it’s at your own risk. I’m not jumping in to save you.” Billy sucks on the whistle as he sits there looking devastastingly sexy.  
“Isn’t that technically your job?” Steve quips, perspiration beading on his forehead.  
“Potato pot_a_to.”  
Steve blanches a moment. Considers backing out until he considers the hell Robin will put him through if he doesn’t follow through.  
Screw it. His life can’t get much worse.  
  
“Listen, I actually came to talk to you.”  
Billy’s forehead creases in concern and he leans forward. “Me? About what? Is Max okay?”  
“Um, Max is fine I think. I’m sure she’s hanging out with the kids. They’ll probably be by the mall later to see a movie. Listen... tonight’s Friday night and all-”  
“Congratulations, you can read a calendar.” A little whisk of a smirk curls up the ends of Billy’s mustached mouth. He just loves to get a rise out of Steve, see his jaw tense and his facial muscles twitch.  
He looks so hot when he’s angry.  
  
“You know what? Never mind. Forget it,” Steve mutters. Maybe this is a mistake, he suddenly reasons as he pirouettes to leave.  
When he sees him swivel in place, Billy panics. He calls after him as he climbs down from the chair.  
“Harrington, wait! Get your ass back here. I’m just messing with you. You came all this way so it must be important. What did you wanna tell me?”  
  
The twinkle to his bluebell gaze… the way he moves his gum from one end of his mouth to the other with darting tongue… Steve thinks he might faint right here.  
Would Billy have to give him mouth to mouth if he just collapsed? Would the metal of Billy’s round pendant hit his sternum with every forced breath, their chests touching? Just like it might if they were…  
An uncomfortable tension builds in his underwear and with these shorts he CANNOT afford a fucking hard on.  
Steve swallows twice, his saliva viscous. The things he wants to say are a boggle jumble in his mind.  
“It’s actually more of a question.”   
He’s peaked his curiosity, the stern look on Steve’s face probing.  
“Okay, Harrington. Shoot.”   
  
The crowded pool full of shreiking children just doesn’t seem the most romantic place to do this. Steve looks around him with a grim expression.  
“Um, can we talk in private?”   
“Let me call Heather over to give me my break?”  
“Sure, yeah.”  
“Okay. Wait for me by the locker room. One sec.”  
  
It’s the longest minute of Steve’s life. He taps his toe and fixes his hair four times. Smells his breath against his palm until he sees Billy enter the locker room through the office door.  
Steve makes sure no one is around.  
“So what required all this privacy?” Billy is extremely curious. And part of him is hopeful? Whatever this is, Harrington didn’t want to do it out in the open. If it’s what Billy thinks, he was mulling over the same thing these past weeks. Since school ended and he found himself daydreaming about the stupid King of Hawkins High.  
  
“Um... “  
_Dear god help me. _  
“Harrington?” Billy snaps his fingers. His deep voice is a rumble against his ribcage. “What do you want? I only get a 15 min. break.”  
Steve takes a full step back, out of arms reach just in case Billy does slug him.   
Here goes everything.  
  
“Billy, listen... I wanted to ask you to go out tonight. On a… date.”   
Whoa. It’s done. It’s done and… feelings take over. They turn Billy’s mind into mush. Every hair on his scalp stands to attention.  
“What?!”   
His voice lowering to a naked whisper, Steve asks again. “Do you wanna hang out tonight?”  
Someone passes by and Billy’s not sure what they heard. He inches forward and comes to a halt right in Steve’s face.  
“Harrington are you a-?”  
Steve flinches. This is not going according to plan. He’s desperately trying to decipher the pinched look in Billy’s expression.  
“Billy I like you and-”   
“What?!”   
Why does he keep repeating this one word he asks himself?!  
Steve likes him. Steve likes him and he likes Steve and… Shaking his head Billy recovers himself with an effort.  
So this is real. This is…  
  
“Steve… “  
The tone is softer now, and Steve relaxes his shoulders just a smidge. Plants his feet just in case, though. He won’t be fooled a third time.  
“Billy please say something.” Steve studies him.  
Billy just blinks over and over again, like his eyelashes are butterflies trapped in a net.  
“Steve…” He’s not sure if he’s saying it or thinking it.  
Jesus those nutmeg eyes brimming with tears, it makes Billy’s throat thicken with emotion. Why is nothing coming out of his mouth?!  
His lips drop open and Steve’s panic starts to surface. He starts babbling like he’s got plenty to say but not enough time to say it.  
“Billy please don’t take it the wrong way I’m sorry I didn’t just want to assume, but I thought maybe I was picking up on something when we were studying together and- ”  
Billy advances. Steve cowers.   
There is an almost imperceptible moment of pleading in Steve’s face. _Please please don’t hit me.  
_Steve mistakes Billy’s silence for anger. Billy stiffens from overwhelming emotion. He still hasn’t said a word except for repeating Steve’s name. He’s just standing there as if he’s lost the grasp of the English language. _  
_“Billy please don’t hit me,” Steve raises his hands, his tone now hysterical as he shoots the words out without taking time to draw air. “I’m not kidding this isn’t a joke I really like you I’d never call you a faggot or out you I mean no one knows about me, either,” he pleads.  
  
“What did you say?” It comes out like a hiss. There’s a blinding rush of heated blood going from Billy’s heart to his brain. He stares wordlessly at him, the sounds of Steve’s speech registering but for god’s sake they aren’t connecting.  
“I said I don’t want to assume but maybe if you like me-”  
“At the end. What did you say at the end!?”   
  
_Oh fuck he’s going to kill me._  
Steve lowers his voice. Decides if he’s going down, he’s going down like a man. “I’d never call you a faggot or out you. This isn’t some prank. I really like you, Billy.”   
Steve straightens himself, adjusts his shoulders. Anyone looking from outside would see this and think it’s ridiculous. A lifeguard and a sailor almost nose to nose in a locker room over _feelings._  
  
Billy hasn’t snapped his gaze away once.  
_Faggot._ That word. Jesus fucking Christ. Billy catches on a sight that makes him come up short: the terror in Steve’s eyes. He’s seen that before. He’s seen it in his own teary reflection when Neil comes home and laments that the dishes weren’t dried properly or his bed wasn’t made to military fucking precision.  
He knows what hot tears and snot and blood taste like licked from the back of a quivering hand.  
He evoked this. Steve actually thinks he’s going to hit him because he has feelings for him?!   
Fuck.   
You’re not Neil, his inner voice says. You’re NOT fucking Neil, Billy.   
  
A conflict of emotions follows one another in quick succession. Steve waits, but for what, he doesn’t know.  
Only the flare to Billy’s nostrils truly betrays his inner turmoil. The guy he loves is asking him out and he’s too fucking scared to accept.  
FUCK! “_Staring at yourself in the mirror_ _like some faggot_…”  
You’re not Neil, his inner voice repeats. You’re NOT fucking Neil, Billy.  
  
“Get out of my face, Harrington. I’m not a fucking faggot. Get out of my face before I jack you again.”  
This is what Neil would say. This is how Neil would react to a proposition like this. Hell, he wouldn’t even give the guy the courtesy of a warning. He’d probably just start wailing on him.  
I am not Neil, he says to himself. I’m not fucking Neil and _I never will be_.  
-

“Yes.”   
Billy reaches out and touches Steve’s trembling arm gently.  
“What?!”   
Did Steve hear correctly? There’s a moment’s astonished silence while Steve tries to find his heartbeat again.  
“I said yes,” Billy grins. “I’ll go out with you, shithead.”   
Blinking away his unbidden tears, Steve manages a chuckle. A barely visible upturn to his plump lips turns into a toothy smile.  
“Well, Billy, when you put it so romantically it just melts a guy’s heart.”  
  
Closing the gap between them, he’s close enough to feel Steve’s warm breath moving the air against his lips.  
“I’m sorry. I’m not good with words. Or emotions for that matter. But I like you, Steve. You don’t annoy the shit out of me like you used to.”  
He makes sure no one is watching, pulls Steve into the supply closet before he can even understand what’s happening. Billy shuts the door behind them.  
  
Billy moves a blue glance to blink up at the ceiling for a second before swinging his restless gaze down to Steve’s pouty lower lip. He holds him close, the ache that was building for weeks palpable in both of them as their skin prickles at the touch.  
  
Billy exhales. Runs the pads of his fingers up Steve’s neck. He fingers the moles on his left cheek, the ones he dreamt about kissing. His lips land there softly a moment later. It’s a feather-touch.  
Steve gasps. Is this really fucking happening?!  
  
“Kiss me, Harrington,” Billy begs when he’s but a hair’s breadth from the gap of his mouth.  
“Please. Here. Up against the wall. Kiss me, Steve.”  
  
Steve makes a shushing sound to reassure him, which coaxes a smile out of him. “All I’ve wanted is to kiss you, Billy.”  
It just takes one second for them to cross their bridge of sighs.  
  
The soft fullness of Steve’s lips is slow and thoughtful when it closes over Billy’s. It’s an exquisite exploration, gentle nudges of the tongue until the kiss deepens and Steve finally… FINALLY… rakes his fingers through Billy’s silky soft curls to draw him even closer.   
Billy tastes of coconut sunscreen and sweat, cigarettes and mint. He smells like melanin. Summer.  
Steve tastes like joy. He’s lemons and oranges and sunshine and everything that is light in Billy’s life. The only light.  
Billy took back the wall with this kiss. Neil can throw him against a million other ones and it won’t ever matter.  
Steve gave him back his wall.  
  
When they break apart they’re breathless, just like in their fantasies.  
“Well that’s a start I guess,” Steve pants before pecking the corner of Billy’s gorgeous mouth again.  
“Yeah. A pretty good one I’d say. Always nice to get that awkward first kiss out of the way.”  
  
Steve is beaming, face lit up with a glow he hasn’t felt in a long time. He fixes a loose tendril from above Billy’s ear, and Billy drags his fingertips into yet another kiss.  
“I’d love to stay here with you, Steve, but I have to get back and finish my shift.”  
“Oh shit, me too!” Steve remembers he left Robin alone at the shop.  
  
They borrow just one more kiss before they make their way to the door.  
“So, we’re on for tonight? For real?”   
Now it seems like a stupid question after making out with Billy for 5 minutes, but Steve’s insecurities always seem to get the better of him.  
  
“Of course. I’ll pick you up later at the mall. When do you get off?”  
“6 should be good.”  
“Okay. See you later, sailor,” Billy says with a wink.  
  
Steve totally forgot he was still in his uniform. “It’s work, you know... Scoops Ahoy... I don’t usually go around dressed as entertainment for kids’ parties.”  
Billy laughs. A genuine one. “Yeah, Harrington. I know. I like it. Shows off those sexy knees of yours. Keep it on for the date and you just might get lucky.”  
  
Nothing can rob them of their smiles when they get back to work. Nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter will be their first real date! Thanks for reading!


	3. The Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Billy and Steve finally go on their first date, but not before Robin gives Billy a (jokingly) hard time.

6:03 p.m.  
Robin makes it a point of looking at the clock as he saunters in.  
Billy’s on time, she thinks.  
  
“If you’re looking for Fashion Bug, it’s across the mall,” Robin says with a simper playing on her lips. She figures she can allow herself to be a little facetious, Billy can take it.  
Inside, there’s a sigh of relief caught in her chest. She’s so happy he showed. It’s all Steve could talk about once he got back and if he had gotten stood up, it would have been tragic for the both of them.  
Steve would have cradled his head in his arms in the break room, repeating some self-critical mantra under his breath. Robin would have had to pat him on the back, secretly fuming at that “dick” Billy for hurting her friend.  
She definitely did not want to deal with the aftermath of all that over the weekend.  
  
No worries now. Here he stands, Billy Hargrove, in all his glory. He raises a muscled arm and whirls his hand in a circle, finishing with a finger pointing forward.  
“Funny. I _have_ been shopping around for a new blouse.” The wink that follows is disarming. “You must be Robin.”  
  
“Indeed I am.” A tilt to her head accompanies a wrinkle of her freckled nose. “We did go to school together, you know, Hargrove.”  
The corners of his plump lips curl upwards into a devastatingly charming grin. He’s studying her as much as she’s scrutinizing him.  
“Oh, I know.” Billy clucks his long tongue.  
  
Goddamn, she thinks. Giving him a once over, an itemized list of his best features scrolls in front of her eyes. He checks all the boxes:  
gorgeous face, hot body, enviable head of hair; a smile that would make any heterosexual girl’s knees shake (and many a gay boy). Add to that the fact that he smells amazing.  
She’s not one for these things, but a quick glance confirms that the protuberance on the front of his jeans screams he’s not lacking in that department, either.  
Okay. Steve has good taste, she’ll give him that.   
  
“So, William… where are you taking our Steven?”  
One dark eyebrow cocks. Robin leans over the register and rests her chin in her hands. “I surmise you will be taking your vehicle, yes? You do have the proper qualifications to be operating heavy machinery?”  
A cocky smirk edges his tanned face. She’s looking out for Steve, and he thinks it’s the sweetest thing in the world.  
“Well, _Mrs. Harrington_, I have an operating license, which in some states would be considered Class D. I promise I will bring Steven home safely within set curfew times.”  
  
He’s playing along. That’s good. It means he’s got a sense of humor.  
“Excellent. And are you carrying protection? Teen pregnancy is growing at an alarming rate these days. I can’t have my Steven in a… _delicate way_ as he’s about to start his life.”  
  
Billy chuckles in that way he does, a hangover of his shyness and insecurity that makes him draw breath and survey his surroundings.  
When Billy returns his gaze to hers, there’s renewed ardor in his eyes. From under a curtain of gilded hair, curls loose on his forehead, he licks his lips.  
  
Those curls, Robin muses. They rest there as if they just fell haphazardly, but he’s not fooling anyone. She knows each wave was perfectly styled and composed with purpose.  
  
Leaning in, two round robin’s eggs bore into her eyes. Billy touches the top of her hand delicately, expertly so…_as if hard fists and bruised bone only taught him the art of lightness._  
  
Robin darts her gaze to where the sensation of heat lies, a gasp hanging in the air between them. The sensation is so electric even _her_ heart flutters for a beat.  
  
“I promise I will treat Steve with the respect he deserves, ma’am.” The words are a baritone rumble in his chest and they demand her attention.  
Paralyzed, and with Billy’s fingertips still blanketing her knuckles, she yells out in a quavering voice:   
“Steve, your hot date’s here!”  
_

I’m sitting in Billy Hargrove’s Camaro. I’m sitting in Billy Hargrove’s Camaro WITH Billy Hargrove. I’m sitting in…  
Steve repeats it over and over in his mind, convincing himself this _is _happening. No, it’s not yet another erotic dream about the handsome lifeguard.  
He did it. He got Billy to go out with him!

Steve sucks in the middle of his lower lip and smiles, heat rising in his cheeks. Billy wrenches his gaze away to pay attention to the road, but his peripheral vision is rapt on the figure beside him. He reaches out to brush a lock of hair from his face and when he brings it down, (with a nonchalance that begs applause), he lets it settle casually on Steve’s thigh.  
Slick Hargrove. Slick.  
  
A spike of heat cuts through Steve, and Billy smirks when his leg twitches under the touch.  
“I’m a little disappointed you didn’t wear the uniform, Harrington.”  
Well marked brows pull together in a fleeting frown. The crack of his gum fills the silence.  
  
He’s going to be the end of me, Steve mutters under his breath. The rows of houses passing by aren't distraction enough. The thought of Billy’s hand warming his bare skin… so close to his dick… thank god he didn’t wear it! Talk about fighting off erections…  
  
“Well, I didn’t want to distract you with my sexy knees all night,” he stammers, swallowing hard. Steve darts his gaze from Billy’s hand to his groin, where something just might come to life.  
_If I get a hard on now, there’s no way he won’t notice.  
_  
Billy catches himself as he bursts into laughter. The habit of calling Steve by his last name will take a little longer to break, he realizes. But he’ll make it a point to try.  
“Next time then, _Steve_. Although I was looking forward to getting you out of it more than seeing you in it.”  
He'll just leave that there.   
  
Oh_ my god! _Thoughts don’t line up in what is now a confusion of hormones in Steve’s body. So there’s going to be a next time? And he wants to do WHAT?!  
“Steve,” Billy punctuates its use once more. If he says it enough, he’ll commit it to memory. “Do you want to stop by your house or are you good to go?”  
  
Steve thought about it. Getting picked up from work meant he’d be wearing the same clothes from this morning. Maybe he _should_ pop in quick… perhaps he smells like creamy sweetness. He did his best to clean up in the bathroom, but maybe his skin has absorbed the milky essence. Then again, maybe Billy doesn’t mind if he smells like ice cream?  
Perhaps he’d take advantage and lick Steve’s neck to see if…  
  
Stop it, Harrington.  
Steve’s brain is fizzling. Stage center, there’s too much happening. Can Billy see the outline?  
Exit left!  
Exit left!  
Great, he admits. My dick is hard.  
  
Speaking of scent, it’s not helping that the car smells like Billy. Jesus Christ, it’s yummy. He’s clearly had time to go home, shower, and primp. A few ringlets are still damp as they graze his nape.  
Steve fights the urge to reach out and test their tenuity. A flashback to earlier, to when they kissed in the storage room… it makes his skin tingle. The silkiness of Billy’s curls against his palm… just thinking about it gives him sharp palpitations.  
  
“Steve, we’re at the turn. Are we going to yours or not?”  
“I’m good. Let’s just go,” Steve replies with ragged breath, busying his mind with thoughts of dead kittens, war, and old people sex.  
“Awesome.” More time to spend with Steve, Billy concludes.  
  
All the horrors playing in his mind are working. Steve’s only semi-hard now, and can actually look over and smile warmly at Billy.  
  
_

A gentle breeze makes the corn stalks rustle, it’s a sweet and comforting sound in the night. As he shifts closer, Billy’s right elbow makes an indentation in the blanket he’s laid down. It’s a soft canopy for the hard ground in the clearing.  
“Steve… “  
Mötley Crüe’s “Home Sweet Home” competes with the tymbal-stretching calls of the summer cicadas, but it’s Steve’s deep exhale that makes the air move between them.  
“What baby?”  
_Baby… it is okay if I call him baby? Is it gonna freak him out? _If Steve could stop his mind from whirring for just a minute, that would be AWESOME.  
  
Billy notices the term of endearment and doesn’t mind at all. On the contrary, he was thinking about one for Steve since their date started.  
“I thought we came here to watch the stars, sweetheart,” Billy whispers, riveted by his loving gaze.  
Steve’s stuck on the _sweetheart, _not giving any thought to the argument at hand. It’s obvious neither are here for their interest in astronomy… they haven’t taken their eyes off each other all night.  
“I _am_ watching the stars, _baby_,” Steve replies, pride and longing coating his probing stare. All of it is dedicated to the gorgeous man above him.  
  
Because nothing may ever compare to this single first moment, Billy thinks, he needs to burn it to memory; to trace the outline of Steve’s perfection onto his heart. He hasn’t had happiness, not like this, ever. That emotion always seemed something intangible, fleeting.  
Steve’s given him a second chance at life.  
  
Billy’s hand, gently insistent, drifts over Steve’s forehead and down his temples. Steve sighs into it, reaches up with a trembling finger, and maps the shape of his lips.  
“I’m gonna kiss you now, Harrington. Just giving you a warning.”  
“I’m gonna let you,” he whimpers back. “Just giving you a warning.”  
  
Leaning lightly into him, Steve tilts his face toward his. Billy’s tongue slides along the crevice of Steve’s mouth, begging entry. Burying his hands in Billy’s thick hair, Steve's lips part.  
The slow penetration of Billy’s muscle makes him melt.  
  
“Fuck I love kissing you,” Billy growls, cerise lips slick.  
A breath doused in desire escapes Steve, who pulls him on top by the belt loops.  
  
“Steve-“ Trapped in denim, one hardness grazes another, provoking a gentle moan from the brunette.  
Billy forgets to inhale.  
  
“Steve, I promised Robin I’d behave tonight.”  
A poorly suppressed giggle rings out in the night. “I know Billy, she told me. In fact, I don’t normally put out on the first date, you know… “  
  
Billy’s body shakes in laughter. “Oh you don’t, huh? Well then I must be special.”  
Steve nods, pulling his face near. He thinks seeing him like this- so HAPPY- is the sexiest thing ever.  
“Oh, you are, baby. You are.”  
  
Billy bites into Steve’s lip until it throbs like his pulse. A slide of digits between them and a second later a zipper glides open.  
  
“Are you sure?” Billy mewls. Vision is fogging and Jesus his erection is throbbing. “I mean we’ve each had three beers and… “  
He has to ask. He has to. He doesn’t want to be a dick. He doesn’t want to be _that guy _anymore, the one who just assumes everyone wants to fuck him because he’s pretty.  
Things with Steve need to be different.  
  
The medallion glitters in the pale light of the Camaro’s fog lights. Steve’s hands reach for the buttons of his shirt, slipping inside to caress his perfect chest. Billy’s necklace is cold against his fiery palms.  
“I’m sure, Bill. I’m sure.”  
Beaming, Billy straightens. Strong shoulders stretch the seam of his shirt as Billy undoes the rest and tosses it to the side with a flick of his wrist.  
Steve bucks up gently, enough to accentuate the ache in both their sexes. A knee nudges Billy’s legs wider.  
  
“Now what will our little Robin think if she finds out how forward you are, Mr. Harrington?” Billy quips.  
“Robin will be happy I got some,” Steve jokes as he pulls on his pant leg. As they slip out of their jeans, Steve accidentally kicks over the paper bag at their feet. It lands with an almost muted crunch, the styrofoam burger containers and empty beer cans half spilling out.  
“I’ll just get that later,” he waves.  
  
Hungry eyes smoldering, they admire each other’s nakedness. A libidinous smile tiptoes across Steve’s face.  
“Impressive.”  
“I can say the same,” Billy purrs.  
Trailing down the furrow between the muscles ridging his spine, Steve dares dip a finger in Billy’s cleft. Wet with spit, he spreads the moistness around the opening. The slick friction drives Billy to rock his hips against Steve, fingers carding his dark, silky hair.  
  
“I’ll be a perfect gentleman,” Steve writhes against him, finding his confidence. One thing he knows he's good at is _this. _  
“Hey that was my line,” Billy moans, thighs twitching in anticipation.  
  
Lowering himself, his free hand’s soft flesh wrapping around Billy’s steel shaft, Steve wets his mouth.  
“But first a taste.”  
"Fuck!" Billy groans.   
  
The tug on Billy’s cock as it tunnels inside Steve’s mouth pushes all rational thought from his mind. “Fuck… Steve… “  
“Mmm,” Steve hums.  
  
_  
  


Bodies limp, tremors fading, Steve curls his toes against Billy’s legs. One arm hangs possessively over Billy’s waist, Steve’s head nuzzled into the crook of his shoulder.  
There’s a wisp of smoke curling in front of Billy’s face.  
  
“Fuck, nothing better than a cigarette after sex.”  
“Nothing?” Steve teases him by dragging a thumb along his length.  
“Well, okay. Maybe more sex,” Billy gurgles. "But give me a minute to catch my breath."  
Billy relives the moment, inhaling the smoke until his lungs don’t feel like bursting. Shit, he can still feel the phantom fullness of Steve’s member, it ghost throbs inside him.  
  
The scent of their lovemaking hangs in the air, heavy in musk and cologne. Steve’s greedy gaze wanders over Billy’s perfect body as he smacks his lips. Iron and salt tingle his taste buds.  
  
Steve shakes the disbelief from the forefront of his mind.  
He was just inside Billy Hargrove, right? He felt Billy’s roped muscles roll against him as he rode Steve’s cock?_ He_ made Billy scream his name and bite into his sensitive skin, drawing blood and begging him for more?  
  
Yes, that was Steve. The lips that flickered over his flesh in hot desire were Billy’s. The shiver of want right before spilling his come onto Steve’s tongue, that was Billy’s.  
The release, the mind-blowing fucking splintering explosion deep within Billy’s sex, that was all Steve.  
  
He could get used to this. He really could.   
  
“Did you like it?” Steve asks as an afterthought, some of his timid uncertainty creeping back. He’s pretty sure their lamentations were indicators of a strong ‘yes,’ but it doesn’t kill to follow up.  
  
Billy flicks the cigarette butt onto the gravel beside them, and rolls back on top of Steve in one fluid movement. From his perch in the middle of Steve’s chest, he tilts his head slightly to the right. The pad of his finger circles Steve’s nipple.  
“Steve, you fuck me like that again and I’ll probably have to marry you.”  
  
Steve’s eyes sparkle, he doesn’t even care to hide his satisfaction. As light as the summer breeze blowing over them, their next kiss is tender.  
When they break, Steve stares straight into Billy’s eyes. What he's about to say next, he needs Billy to know he means it.   
  
“I’m glad,” Steve murmurs in relief. “Because I could do a lot worse than Billy Hargrove. I’d marry you any day, baby. _Any day._”  
  
In that moment, in the shadow of a waning fog light, in the midst of those dreamily spoken words... Billy is reborn. His expression dissolves suddenly into an irrepressible grin.  
The darkness around him, literal and figurative, is fading. Billy thinks not even a miracle can make him feel any more _alive _... and loved, than he does right now. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Life got in the way, but I finally wrapped this one up. Hope you enjoyed it, and that it was worth the wait. PLEASE please feel free to comment! And drop a kudo if you haven't read it before, I SO appreciate your time.


	4. Shallow - The Basement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Months into their relationship, Billy takes refuge at Steve's house after an altercation with his father.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *TRIGGER WARNING: descriptions of violence, swearing, homophobic language, and sexual abuse. I'm not putting the warning in the fic because it only happens in this chapter, so I'm putting it here.*
> 
> Surprise 4th chapter, and there will probably be a 5th. Here are 8 pages of my literal tears (and figurative blood and sweat). I hope the ending makes up for the angst-ridden rollercoaster beginning. <3

Billy realizes he’s been staring at the muted stain by his foot for the better part of five minutes. His motorcycle boot, slightly scuffed at the toe, presses into the patterned fibers. 

One hand hangs loosely over his bouncing knee, the other dabs at his broken lip. Touching it leaves a crimson smear on his fingertip.  
“Motherfucker,” Billy hisses, licking away the iron with the flat of his tongue.  
Fucking Neil, he thinks. If he doesn’t get the hell out of Hawkins, one day his father will end up killing him.  
  
A muffled conversation upstairs makes him look up. It’s Steve on the landline talking to someone, though if Billy had to guess it’s probably Robin. They’ve all become great friends.  
His eye catching on the water stain in the corner makes his head turn and that’s when it erupts in blinding white pain. His eyebrows snap down into a grimace.  
The knob of bone that had crashed into Billy's jaw earlier is now causing it to throb incessantly. As soon as Billy closes his eyes, the whole thing replays in his mind through a filter of colored spots floating in front of his lids.  
So much for forgetting what happened.  
  
What’s left of Billy’s heart sinks slowly, the tears rising unbidden. He sniffles and gently puts his face in his open palms.  
The sorrow he feels- the shame- is almost too much to bear. Sometimes he thinks only in death is he ever going to be free of his father.  
_  
  
_Several hours earlier…  
_  
Billy was getting ready to come to Steve’s. Harrington’s parents were away for the week in Indianapolis visiting his grandmother, and for once they could make love in a bed without having to lock themselves in Steve’s room and stifle their moans. (Though at first that was hot, presently it turned out to be just a huge nuisance).  
Having sex in the Camaro or on a blanket in the middle of a field was also getting kind of old, especially since September started and temperatures had dropped.  
It would be perfect. Finally, they would get a few days to themselves to just _be a couple. _They even had a movie night planned with Robin and her new girlfriend.  
  
“Runaway” by Bon Jovi was playing on the radio, Billy humming along to it. A cool breeze made the curtain billow as he stood in front of the mirror, reminding him to grab his jacket before leaving.  
Skin still gilded by the retreating summer’s kiss, Billy looked divine in his white shirt and blue jeans. A three button drop revealed a smooth chest broad with powerful, corded muscles.  
_Fuck, I look hot. _  
Billy snapped his gum, winked at himself, and as he was about to wrap his hand around the bottle of cologne (the brand Steve loved so much), his bedroom door flew open.  
  
“I only ever suspected you were a faggot but now I know for sure!”  
Before Billy could register what was happening, Neil caught his wrist in a death grip, forcing his arm backward.  
  
“Oww Dad! What the fu-“ Billy stammered, still slack in the hold. Years of abuse taught him the reflex of non-resistance. Neil walked him to the closet, the veins in his neck popping. Billy threw his head back when his shoulder blades hit drywall.  
Meeting his father’s gaze, misted with rage and disappointment, he dared to ask “What did I do now, Dad?”  
  
Nostrils flared, face contorted, Neil spit “What did you do, you Nancy? WHAT DID YOU DO?! I’ll show you!”  
  
His right hand stole to his back pocket, all the while his left digging half-moons into his son’s forearm.  
What came into view next made Billy’s heart stall.  
  
Neil held it up by the end, a handkerchief wrapped around the rounded base. Dangling it in front of his son’s saucered eyes, a look of defeat and utter anguish darkened Billy’s face.  
_Oh.my.god.  
  
_Before he could even attempt to explain himself, Neil held the dildo to him and pressed it into his son’s paling cheek.  
“Is this what you do, Billy? IS THIS WHAT YOU FUCKING DO?!”  
  
Every word was a silicone depression into the hollow of Billy’s jowl. He could almost taste Neil’s contempt as he skewered him with insults.  
“So I raised a faggot. I raised a FUCKING FAGGOT who not only likes cock, but he likes to TAKE cock. Am I right, Billy? AM I RIGHT?! You couldn’t have at least been a top. _You have to be a bitch in everything you do.”  
_  
The room spun. Billy struggled with shallow yet audible breaths. Too preoccupied with what was happening before him, it didn’t even cross his mind, but it would later. _What was with his father’s extensive knowledge of gay terminology?_  
  
No matter how hard he tried, Billy couldn’t stop the despair rising in his throat. Tears welled in the bottomless blue pools of his eyes. They beseeched mercy from the man who had given him life.  
  
_WHAT?! HOW?! Where did Neil find it?!_  
Billy had always put it away in a box of dirty magazines under the bed. His father must have searched his room. That was the only explanation.  
  
Shit, he hadn’t even had it that long. It was an impulse purchase. One day he was waiting to pick up Max from the roller rink and he drove past a sexy shop.  
The temptation was too much. He had walked in nonchalantly- he’d actually never been in one of these places before. Expecting it to be seedy, he was pleasantly surprised. Billy found a spotless shop and a sales assistant very well versed in all things _accessory._  
Steve was big. It’s not like before dating him Billy had had a ton of experience with anal sex. He figured prepping himself would help. (And it was also a nice substitute for when he awoke at 4 am with a hard-on in an otherwise empty bed).  
Honestly, the money spent was worth every dime.  
  
It was too late to think about the whys now. His sex toy was digging into his face, his father an inch from his nose.   
A thousand panicked thoughts scrambled for attention at once and all Billy could do was just slump there, feet rooted in place and his blood freezing in his veins.  
“Dad, I-“ he whispered.  
_You fucking asshole. I fucking hate you so much. _  
  
His father’s stare narrowed furiously.  
“What, William? What?! Are you going to tell me how you fuck yourself on this at night? What else do you do with it? Do you practice sucking dick on it?”  
Enlightenment ironed out his creased face and the recognition blazed within him.  
“You do, don’t you? Now that’s an idea! Are you one of those rest stop whores? Giving blowjobs in dirty bathrooms for 5 bucks so you can afford more hairspray?”  
  
Horrified, Billy’s fists clenched. The mere insinuation that he would prostitute himself only because he was gay… and wait, how did his father know how much a hustler charged?  
Whatever was happening, he’d never seen his father so furious. Billy’s breath snagged a hold of something in his chest and it made him feel faint.  
  
It was useless to evade this hailstorm, his mind told him out of habit. It’d be like every other time. Give in and get it over with.  
Except this time was different. This time Neil was about to cross a line.  
  
“How about you show your old man how good you are at sucking cock. Go on, son, put it in your mouth and show me. Give me *something* to be proud of.”  
“WHAT?! Dad- NO- I- “   
Had Neil fucking lost his mind?!  
Even when his father held the midnight blue tip to Billy’s quivering lips, nudging them open, he still couldn’t will himself to react. And amid all this chaos, was that a spark he read in his father’s assault, or was Billy crazy?  
  
The snot from Billy’s fresh tears ran a rivulet to his whiskered upper lip and suddenly whether Neil was a queer-frustrate mattered less.  
  
“PUT IT IN YOUR MOUTH AND SHOW ME!” Neil screamed in his face, spittle spraying. He looked possessed.  
Half the crown passed Billy’s pinched mouth… and just as he was about to pull the curtain on what was transpiring, (like he always did when he was getting beaten), the courage anchored inside him. He closed his eyes briefly, the head of the fake cock just resting on his tongue.  
  
_There was light, and the beach. His mother. Seagulls flying overhead and the scent of brine tickling his nose. The only time he ever remembered serenity having a hold on his heart was then. _  
All the childhood memories, the terror and the fucking misery that ensued- it all seeped in the juices of his deep hatred for his father. It just took this unbelievable act of defilement for it to finally bubble to the surface.  
“You’re fucking insane!”  
  
It was one fluid movement. Billy pushing Neil off, his knuckles knotting as he wound up and struck the first blow.  
Neil wasn’t expecting it. His son never hit back. It landed squarely on his chin and Neil’s senses momentarily buzzed.  
  
But then the sex toy dropped to the ground, and Neil flung himself at his son like a madman. He took a violent swing, and it hit hard. There was a crack and a gasp.  
Had Billy not been so shocked at having reacted to his father’s abuse, he might have been quicker in ducking. His father hit him again, this time on the jaw, and Billy stumbled backwards.  
_I didn’t plant my feet, he thought, as bone hit bone._  
  
The first punch split his lip, the blood splattering across his chin. The second sent a searing dagger of pain down his jaw.  
Then Billy disappeared inside himself. Another William Hargrove clung to the edge of redemption now.  
_Enough._  
He decided Neil had landed his last blow.  
  
With a look so vacant and emotionless that it almost scared his father, Billy threw a sucker punch that took him upside the head.  
The force sent Neil sprawling. Dazed, his hands instinctively pulled up to counter, but it was too late. One kick of Billy’s boot and he doubled over in pain.  
“You motherfucker!” Billy howled. “You piece of shit!”  
  
Billy kicked him again. And again. And again. In a fury of grief for his former self, Billy purged an endless torrent of insults at the man. All that was left was a ball of heaving, bloodied flesh on his bedroom floor. A stain expanded on Neil’s crotch- the asshole had pissed himself.  
“You’ll pay –“ Neil panted, groaning as he grabbed his stomach. “ You’ll fucking pay for this. You’re dead, Billy! You’re fucking dead!”  
  
Wiping the moisture from his lip and nose, Billy hunched over and spit blood and saliva into Neil’s face.  
“You can’t kill me, Dad. Whatever joy might have lived inside me you managed to destroy long ago.”  
  
A glare as hard as steel blinked up at Billy. Neil coughed before slurring one last insult.  
“Don’t you ever come back to this house YOU FAGGOT!”  
  
“Better a faggot than a prick like you.”  
Billy pulled his spine straight, proud of himself. He’d work through the shakes of the adrenaline making his pulse race when he'd get to Steve’s. Right now all that mattered was that Neil fucking Hargrove was tangled in a pile, soaked in his own piss and blood in the middle of his son’s bedroom.  
  
Once he gathered his keys and grabbed his jacket, Neil glaring up at him from bloodshot, half-lidded eyes, Billy bent down to recover his dildo.  
Waving it proudly in the air, he got in one last word.  
“You might want to get one for Susan, Neil. Maybe a little smaller than this one since she’s used to THAT.”  
He pointed to Neil’s dick as he said it.  
“Poor woman, I can’t imagine she’s ever had an orgasm with you.”  
  
_

Steve is holding the bag of peas to Billy’s jaw, his boyfriend’s hand clasped over his thigh.  
“Thank you, baby,” Billy murmurs, inclining his head in a small gesture of gratitude.  
“Anytime,” Steve replies, expression clouded in anger. “I can’t believe he did that to you, Billy. Jesus Christ, I’m sorry.”  
  
Billy was used to it, but that didn’t mean it was right.  
“Lips heal, Steve. Bruises fade. But Neil calling me a faggot every day has buried itself into my soul.”

“Baby… “ Steve reaches forward and softly brushes the curls from Billy’s forehead.  
“I need to get out of here, Steve,” Billy announces forlornly. “I think I’m gonna run away. I fucking can’t live there anymore, obviously. Maybe I _should_ go suck cock at rest stops.”  
  
Steve goes limp, the sadness working its way into his normally sunny countenance. He puts down the soggy bag of peas on the coffee table.   
  
“Billy- hey. Enough of that. We’re gonna get out of here. _Together_. Just give it a few months, so we can save up some money.”  
Not meaning to scoff, but William Hargrove isn’t stupid. He knows exactly how much money it’s going to take.  
  
“I’m coaching rec center basketball and you work at Family Video. We’re not exactly rolling in cash, sweetheart.”  
“True,” Steve lifts a hand in the air. “But I make 3 dollars _and thirty-five cents_ now, Billy. That 35 cents makes the difference! I’ll be buying you that villa in the suburbs any day now.”  
  
For the first time all evening, Billy laughs. It hurts to, and he winces immediately after, but this is what Steve does for him. Brings back the life. Steve Harrington is the answer to all his midnight pleas. To his muffled cries for help and understanding.  
Like standing in the desert and praying for rain, Steve arrived as tribute. He’s Billy’s gentle drizzle.  
  
“We’ll never be able to be who we are here, Steve. Never.” He’s trying to be positive but Billy inevitably tumbles back into darkness a moment later.  
Shoulders sagging, Steve grabs Billy’s hand. “I know, baby. But it’s not going to be forever. Just hang on a little longer. I’ll talk to my parents, explain what happened. You’re 18 now, no one can put you in foster care or force you to live with your father. You’ll come stay with me. We have the room. Of course to Mr. Harrington we’ll just be two friends sharing a bedroom, but as much of an asshole as my father can be, he’s a kind person. He won’t let you go back to an abusive home.”  
  
“You would do that for me?” Billy’s widening eyes and incredulous tone break Steve. _He honestly thinks he doesn’t deserve any goodness. _Swallowing down the knot forming in his throat, Steve’s thumb gently touches Billy’s bruised mouth._  
_“I’d do anything for you, baby. Anything.”

Billy turns away. He’s afraid he’ll cry again, but this time out of utter happiness.  
“You’d save me from myself, you know that? Christ, I jump every time I hear Neil’s car on the gravel. You know the other night I was laying in bed staring up at the ceiling and I thought I’m just going to fucking kill him. Go into his room and pour drain cleaner down his throat and be done with it.”  
  
“Jesus, Billy… you don’t know how sorry I am that you’ve been going through this.” Apologizing, not out of accountability, but to voice the unfairness of the situation, is the only way Steve can keep himself from driving over to Billy’s house and killing the man himself.  
Who does that to their son? What kind of sick bastard is he?!  
  
“I just feel bad abandoning Max. If he beats the shit out of me and I’m his what’s he gonna do to Max one day?”  
“I hope nothing,” Steve replies, scooting closer.  
  
“Why don’t you come away with me?” Beaming, the sparkle of invention in his expression, Billy meets Steve’s gaze. Squeezing his hand, Billy inches forward. “Let’s just go. Leave this place and its shit smell behind. Me and you, against the world.”  
  
Steve would go. Immediately. There’s not an ounce of hesitation if Steve thinks to desire. But the practicality… he doesn’t want to sound like a Dad, but…  
“I would, Billy. Today. But I literally have 47 dollars in my bank account. Can we hold off just a little while? I’m serious about you staying here. It’s gonna work. I know it’ll suck to pretend, but in a few months, with our finances combined, we’ll have enough to get a place. Maybe we can move to Chicago.”  
  
“What if we move to California?” Billy perks up, slapping the couch cushion. “Nobody cares who you are there. And the weather is so beautiful. I’ll take you to the beach, Steve.”  
  
Mentioning California brings Billy back to vitality. It really warms Steve’s heart, thinking things didn’t always totally suck for him.  
“We can make love in the water.”  
“Now _that’s_ something I’ve never done!”  
California doesn’t sound half bad. It would beat Indiana winters and it’s not like Steve has a lot going for him here. At the worst, there are video stores in California, too.   
“I think that would be an amazing idea. Think about driving cross country in your Camaro. You’re keeping the Camaro, right?”  
“Asshole put it in my name. Sucks for him. Of course I’m keeping it.”  
  
If Neil had any intention of taking his car away, he had another thing coming. That’s Billy’s baby.  
“Wow, probably the only nice thing Neil ever did.”  
“It wasn’t to be nice,” Billy clarifies with a shake of his tawny head. “He told me he didn’t want to be responsible for me fucking up if I got a ticket or hit someone. He was just protecting his ass.”  
  
Steve shudders in disgust. “Jesus. What a stand-up guy.”  
“He’s not winning any father of the year awards for sure.”  
  
Fitting their fingers together, Billy falls onto Steve’s chest, the other nuzzling him into the circle of his arms.  
Billy relaxes and exhales deeply. He feels safe here with Steve. Finally, he can _breathe_.  
“Yeah, well… Neil can suck my fat dick.”  
Billy chuckles, a slip of cotton the only thing between him and Steve. The heat from his boyfriend’s body is welcoming.  
“Well I hate to disappoint you, Steve, but I don’t think Neil could do this beauty any justice.”  
His palm slides over Steve’s crotch, giving his cock a gentle squeeze. “I, on the other hand, know just how you like it.”  
  
“Oh yes you do,” Steve squirms, starting to get hard.  
“In fact, I could… “  
Any nonsense about to happen gets cut off. “Billy, your lip is busted. You’re not giving me a blowjob right now.”  
Despite the refusal, Steve’s voice is edged with heat. Billy just does things to him.  
  
Barely moving it makes his lip pulse again. Not to mention the need for a working jaw if he’s going to perform properly.  
“You’re right. I’m not.” Billy remembers the odd details from earlier, and raises himself to his elbow.  
“Hey you know something?”  
“What?”  
“I realized while he was hurling insults at me... I think Neil is so homophobic because he’s secretly gay, or at least bi. There was something in his eyes. It would make sense, why he fucking freaked out like that.”  
That would make sense, Steve thinks. “Yeah, it would. You remember Chuck from the basketball team? Always making those awful comments and calling the other guys fags?”  
“Yeah…”  
  
Fingers lightly play with Billy’s curls as he speaks. “Shana told me he went to U of I in August and he’s dating some psych major named Dean.”  
Shaking his head positively, Billy swivels his head towards Steve. “Holy shit, fucking Neil might be gay.”  
“Fucking Neil might be gay!” Steve exclaims with a huffed laugh.  
  


When their amusement has settled down, Billy yawns. “Sorry, baby, I think this whole thing has exhausted me. The rush is finally wearing off.”  
“Do you want to go rest?”  
“Can we just lie here on the sofa?” His whole head is pounding and moving upstairs seems like too much work.  
“Sure thing.”  
The sun breaks into Billy’s eyes. He lets his lips gently brush against Steve’s, giving a little whimper when the other kisses him back.   
  
“Would you hold me, Steve?” Billy whispers. He feels silly to feel so vulnerable today, but then again it’s not every day that your fucking father punches you because he found your dildo.  
  
Steve melts at the request. He’s used to Billy being the one who big spoons (on the rare occasion they spend an entire night together). He likes the idea of taking care of him for once.  
“Of course I’ll hold you, Billy. Wait a sec, before we settle in. I- I made this for you.”  
The color rising in his cheeks, Steve pulls a cassette tape from his pocket. **TO BILLY <3 STEVE** is scrawled on the sticker.  
  
“You made me a mix tape?” Billy grins hugely.  
“Yeah. Corny, huh?”  
“Baby… I love it!” He kisses Steve once more, the touch feather-soft.  
  
“I’m so glad you like it. I was worried it was dumb.”  
Bill puts his hand out and catches Steve’s chin. “It was PERFECT. Can we listen to it?”  
“Sure!”  
He couldn’t be prouder of himself. Billy liked his gift!  
“There’s no stereo down here, but I have my Walkman. We can share the headphones.”  
“I don’t mind sharing anything with you, Steve,” Billy answers almost too quickly. _I hope to share my life with you, _he thinks.  
_  
  
The rise and fall of their breathing are regular, and Bill’s senses seem drugged. Their fingers are webbed, spread out in a fan against Steve’s breastbone.  
“I could spend eternity here,” Billy murmurs.  
He means it. He wouldn’t want to be anywhere else right now.  
  
Steve smiles to himself, threading his free hand through the back of Billy’s head, feeling the silkiness of his hair against his skin.  
They’re about four songs in when Billy says, “Jesus, Harrington. You have the worst taste in music.” Squeezing his hand, he looks up at him and laughs. “But I love it. I love it because you made it for me.”  
  
The grin Steve returns to him is dazzling. “I did put the Scorpions in there, though.”  
“Yeah, you did. And Motley. Home Sweet Home. I think that’s kind of our song.”  
  
My home is where you are, Steve, he wants to say, but stops himself.  
“It was playing the first time we made love,” the boys say in unison.  
  
A new one begins and Steve nearly jumps in excitement. He replaces the orange sponge over his ear and falls back against Billy, who’s using the other one.  
“This song’s new. I really like it!”  
The opening chords are sad, but the lady singing it has an amazing voice, Bill muses.

“I’m falling  
In all the good times I find myself  
Longing for change  
And in the bad times I fear myself

I’m off the deep end, watch as I dive in  
I’ll never meet the ground…  
Crash through the surface, where they can’t hurt us  
We’re far from the shallow now”  
  
As soon as his reaching hand touches the warmth of Billy’s face, Steve feels whole.  
“I think we’re gonna be okay, baby.”  
Clasping it to his good cheek, Billy kisses the palm. “I think so, too.”  
  
The words hang like four red paper lanterns.  
Delicate.  
Beautiful.  
Steve has brought light to Billy’s life. He’s felt it for a while now, but never had the courage to say those precise sentiments.  
But tonight, after everything Steve’s done for him and _will _do for him-  
  
“I love you, Steve,” Billy sighs. “You don’t have to say it back, I mean I-”  
  
Heart beating faster as his mouth moves gently against his, Steve replies, an ache of affection swelling within him.  
“Stop being Billy for a second.”  
The pause is purposeful. “I love you, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obviously Lady Gaga didn't write "Shallow" in 1985, but I love that song and wanted to work it in. Title of chapter as well as lyrics at the end.  
The line about the rain and the desert comes from a song, "A Drop in the Ocean," by Ron Pope. Great if you want to listen to it.  
As always thanks for your support. Please feel free to comment (even a couple words if you like), kudo if this is your time reading, and bookmark if you'd like to keep this handy.  
I appreciate each and every one of my readers. Thank you for your continued support.

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a quick one shot and it just got away from me. The third chapter will be the boys' first date. Forgive any errors it's 3 am and even my editor is tired! :)  
The idea for Robin's involvement was inspired in part by my dear friend's story (ashkore_varg) here in ST, "Into The Light." Please check it out as well, she's awesome!
> 
> I've played around a bit with canon content and timelines to make the story work.


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